Page 55 of Naughty List Delivery
Before I can answer, his mouth is on mine, hot and demanding and tasting like home. A year of this, and I still feel that spark of electricity every time he kisses me, still get that flutter of surprise that this incredible man chose me. Chose us.
His hands map territories they know by heart now, but the familiarity only makes it better. He knows exactly how to touch me to make me gasp, exactly where to press to make me arch, exactly what combination of pressure and movement will have me pleading his name. And I know his responses just as well—the way his breathing changes when I trail my fingers along the scaling at his ribs, the sound he makes when I bite down gently on his lower lip, the way his control frays when I whisper his name in just the right tone.
“Still think you don’t have vulnerabilities?” he asks against my breast, his voice smug with satisfaction as I tremble beneath him.
“Maybe one or two,” I concede breathlessly, then flip us over with a move I learned from watching him fight. The bed on the Starbound is bigger than what we had on the Shadowhawk, but we still end up tangled together in the center, gravity and desire pulling us into each other’s orbit.
Now it’s my turn to explore, to map the lines of muscle and alien grace that I’ve memorized over countless nights like this. His skin tastes like salt and spice and something uniquely him, and when I trace the scaling along his ribs with my tongue, he makes a sound that’s purely animal.
The muscle is more pronounced than it was a year ago—apparently contentment makes Felaxian biology more vibrant. The patterns shift color slightly with his emotions, deepening to rich amber when he’s aroused, silvering when he’s completely relaxed. I’ve become an expert in reading his moods through the subtle changes in his alien features.
“Noomi,” he growls, his control fraying in the most delicious way as my hands work their way lower.
“Yes?” I ask innocently, even as my hand wraps around him, stroking with the kind of deliberate attention he showed me moments ago. He’s already hard and ready, his alien anatomy as fascinating now as it was the first time. The ridges along his length create incredible friction, and after a year of practice, I know exactly how to use them to drive him wild.
“I want—” His words cut off in a hiss as I lean down to replace my hand with my mouth, taking him deep and savoring the way his tail lashes restlessly against the sheets. “I want to skip the briefing and move directly to the hands-on training.”
“Hands-on training sounds very... educational,” I agree, releasing him with deliberate slowness before shifting tostraddle his hips. The position brings us deliciously close, and I can feel his tail wrapping around my waist, steadying me, claiming me, making sure I’m exactly where he wants me.
“Very educational,” he confirms, his hands coming up to frame my hips as I settle against him. “Though I should warn you, this particular curriculum tends to be... intensive.”
“I think I can handle intensive,” I tell him, then sink down slowly, taking him into my body with the kind of deliberate control that makes his amber eyes go dark with need.
The feeling of being joined with him never gets old. If anything, it gets better—more natural, more right, more like finding the missing piece of myself I never knew was gone. His alien anatomy fits me perfectly, those ridges along his length creating friction that makes me see stars, while his enhanced body heat seems to reach every nerve ending at once.
“Perfect,” he breathes, his voice rough with want as I begin to move. “You’re perfect.”
“We’re perfect,” I correct, finding the rhythm that makes us both gasp. “Together, we’re perfect.”
His hands guide my movements while his tail provides counterpoint, the scaled appendage trailing across my skin with maddening precision. After a year, we’ve learned each other’s bodies like favorite songs, knowing exactly when to build and when to release, when to tease and when to give in completely.
I lean forward, changing the angle in a way that makes him curse in three languages, and his hands tighten on my hips with just enough force to remind me of his enhanced strength. The careful control he maintains, the way he holds back enough to never hurt me while still letting me feel his power—it’s intoxicating.
“Love you,” I gasp as the tension builds between us, as his clever fingers find the bundle of nerves that makes me tremble. “Love you so much.”
“Love you too,” he growls, then sits up to capture my mouth with his, kissing me as we move together toward something that feels like flying. “My mate. My partner. My everything.”
The endearments push me over the edge, pleasure crashing through me in waves that leave me shaking in his arms. He follows immediately after, his roar of completion muffled against my throat as he fills me with liquid heat, his tail tightening around my waist like he’s afraid I might disappear.
We stay locked together for long moments afterward, both breathing hard, both reluctant to break the connection that feels like the most natural thing in the universe. His purr starts up again, a rumble I feel as much as hear, and I realize this sound has become the soundtrack to my happiness.
“So,” I say eventually, when I can think again. “Good briefing?”
His laugh rumbles through his chest. “Excellent briefing. Though I think we may need a follow-up session after the mission.”
“Definitely,” I agree, pressing a kiss to his collarbone where a faint sheen of sweat makes his fur glisten. “Proper debriefing is essential for mission success.”
“Absolutely essential,” he confirms solemnly, then ruins the effect by nipping at my earlobe in a way that makes me shiver. “Can’t be too thorough when it comes to operational security.”
A chime from the wall comm interrupts our post-mission analysis, and Mother’s voice fills our quarters with its characteristic blend of authority and barely contained exasperation.
“Jaxson, Kraine, I hope you’re both decent because I need to brief you on a schedule change.”
“We’re perfectly decent,” I call back, even as Ober’s hands demonstrate that we are anything but. “What’s the change?”
“Your departure time has been moved up by an hour. Apparently, the colony’s medical situation is more urgent than initially reported.”
I feel Ober tense beneath me, his protective instincts immediately shifting into high gear. It’s one of the things I love most about him—how quickly he can transition from playful lover to focused professional when the situation demands it. The change is almost visible, his entire demeanor sharpening as he begins running tactical scenarios.
